ZELDA-NA-NAAAH! DA-DAH!
by Tomas the Betrayer
Summary: One fatal mistake lands Groose in the role of Hyrule's Hero. With such an unpromising candidate, perhaps only the God of War can possibly whip him into shape!


His Sailcloth deployed, Link drifted aloft on the breeze as he descended towards Faron Woods far below. Having acquired Zelda's harp he was now on his way to the Sealed Grounds where the old woman who lived there could hopefully inform him how best to proceed. Zelda and her strange guardian had vanished, but the remorseless Ghirahim still remained and had vowed to pursue them. If he had any hopes of triumphing in their next confrontation, he would need to seek some means to challenge the Demon Lord's power. Descending through the cloud cover, Link brooded upon this perilous quest.

As he floated earthward, however, a sound came to his pointed ears. Link peered about in search of its origin. Seeing nothing, he craned his neck upwards and…

"UWWAAAAAHHHH!" the flailing Groose shrieked in panic as he plummeted like a rock straight towards Link.

"UWWAAAAAHHHH!" came the normally silent hero's shocked reply.

Both Skypieans collided in midair. There then followed a confused mess of shouting, pleading, struggling, praying, kicking, and even some biting.

A few seconds later, a white pillowcase was fluttering in the wind, accompanied to the tune of two swiftly dwindling screams.

* * *

Groose came awake with a groan. Blinking golden eyes, he sat bolt upright and immediately wished he hadn't. His whole body ached. A headache of monumental proportions made him wince and whimper. However as he was just considering the merits of lying back down to let unconsciousness claim him, all the pain simply went away. Surprised, the husky youth opened his eyes. He could have sworn he heard a high-pitched giggle like a girl's, but when he looked around there was no one to be seen.

Well, he didn't hurt anymore, so that was an improvement. But… where was he?

Standing up, Groose cast about contemplatively, dusting his pants off as he did. Overhead the sun was shining bright. It looked like he was in a tiny meadow surrounded by low cliffs from which green flourishing trees sprouted. There were flowers and a little path leading off into what looked like the ruins of some old stone building.

"Hello?" he called out tentatively. "Is anybody there?"

No answer. Reaching up, Groose patted his great red hair spike gently to make sure it hadn't fallen flat. Nope, not a hair out of place. Everything seemed to be in order.

When he brought his hand down, the tiny bird perched on it looked up at him and chirped.

Groose stared, eyes slowly going big.

That was not normal.

There were birds in Skypiea, of course. Loftwings. Everybody who was anybody had one. He himself was partner to a very fine specimen he had named Duke Thunderhead. They were inseparable, best friends from day one. Many was the time they had flown the skies together in bold displays of grandeur and strength.

And that was due entirely to the fact that an adult Loftwing was bigger than a person. Meanwhile the little feathered thing on his fingers could have fit into Groose's wide-open mouth. It continued to observe him, blinking its beady black eyes. Even Loftwing hatchlings dwarfed this puny creature.

For the first time, it occurred to Groose that he might be somewhere other than Skypiea.

The mini-bird took this moment to spread its wings and zip off. The flabbergasted teen jumped with a yelp of surprise. In doing so, he dislodged several more brightly covered mini-birds that had been comfortably perched unnoticed on his head and shoulders. The flock took off, leaving him gawking upwards at their flight into the sky. Groose stumbled back a few steps, barely registering a slight alteration in the soil beneath his feet. He was entranced by the sight that greeted him.

The sky… it was filled with… clouds! So high up it made him dizzy, and he quickly looked down. That wasn't right! That many clouds shouldn't be above the land, they were meant to be down, far below the floating islands of Skypiea, beneath the solid ground he was standing on, and… and…

In looking down, the sky native finally noticed something that had escaped his attention up 'til this point.

Namely, buried flat in the soft turf at his feet, there lay Link.

Groose stared. His fellow Skypiean and self-appointed rival for the lovely Zelda's affections was facedown, arms and legs spreadeagled and back completely level with the turf. It dawned on Groose that he had walked right over him without even noticing. Weird.

"Uhhh… Link?" he hazarded. "You alright there, man?"

Link made no response. None at all.

Peering anxiously about, Groose hurried off, returning a few moments later with a stick he had found. Crouching down a few paces away, he cautiously poked the unmoving form with it. This too garnered no reaction.

Could he be…?

No. No way, no how! I mean, sure, we must have fallen a really long ways, and I don't know for sure where we landed, but… I'm fine, right? So he should be too! Yeah, okay, it sort of looks like I landed on top of him, but that wouldn't have broken my fall that much, right?

So resolved, he poked the body more forcefully. "C'mon, Link, get up! You can't be dead!"

His flattened rival remained where he was in silent refutation of that statement.

"Oh… oh, man." Groose swiftly dropped the stick, feeling his heart begin to race wildly. "Oh man, I…" He looked all about him. "HELP!" the frightened youth screamed. "SOMEBODY, ANYBODY… HELP!"

"What is going on here?"

Stunned, Groose looked up. From the direction of those ruins, there slowly came a withered old woman. Bent with age, she hobbled closer. Her iron-gray hair was done up in a long braid that ended in a coiled sort of round shape that swung pendulously from side to side with each step. A great cape covered her shoulders, with a long pointed hood sticking straight up from the top of her head that reminded him of his own hairstyle. The cowl shaded her eyes, leaving only sagging cheeks and a toothless mouth visible. This peculiar figure shuffled to a halt right before the half-buried Link. She then bent down, apparently examining the green-garbed teen's remains.

"No…" the old woman whispered. "How can this be? The Hero of Legend is…" Her head came up sharply, and Groose jumped a little as hidden eyes seemed to focus on him. "What did you _do?"_ she demanded.

"Nothing!" he responded tearfully. "Well, I mean, we were both falling, and I grabbed onto Link, but…" He gave a helpless gesture. "I mean, I'm okay, right? I just don't get why he isn't too! I mean, oh man…" His face turned green. "Oh man, I'm gonna…!"

Groose turned about and dashed over to puke behind a small boulder, which was actually a Goron archaeologist busy reading a map, but neither of them took any notice of one another. His stomach empty, the Skypiean wiped his mouth off and smeared it on the rock-man's shoulder unremarked before toddling back to where the old lady stayed crouched.

In that time, the elderly matron had taken note of something. Reaching out, she scooped up the remains of a broken bottle that was hooked to Link's belt. Bringing it to her nose she gave a cautious sniff. A quick gasp escaped her lips.

"This bottle!" she exclaimed. "It contained a fairy! By all rights when the Hero died its power should have automatically restored him to life. But when the flask broke and the sprite came out, the first thing it encountered must have been…" She looked up at Groose. "You!"

The muscular male raised an eyebrow. "Oh… really?" He had no idea what she was talking about but felt it would be better to play along. "Yeah, sure, that makes sense. Come to think of it… I did hear someone giggle when I came around, but I thought maybe I was hallucinating. Yup, that explains everything."

Crossing his arms with a confident nod, he then glanced about the terrain again in deep thought. "So… where are we, exactly? Is Zelda around here, do you know?"

The ancient woman slumped on her knees in shock. "We are lost," she whispered. "The Hero of Prophecy is no more! Soon the Demon King will rouse from his prison, and now there is no one to stop him! Our world is doomed!"

Groose's ears perked up at the word 'hero'. He still wasn't certain what was going on, who this old foreigner might be, or why she seemed to know Link. But technically this mess might be all his fault, and that meant there was only one thing to do.

"Hey, Granny," the big Skypiean puffed out his chest in a reassuring manner. "If it's a hero you need, look no further! The great Groose will help with whatever you need! There's no threat too big for me to face, you better believe it! So just fill me in on the details and I'll go charging off to save the day, no problem!"

The Oracle lifted her head to take in the musclebound lunkhead smiling proudly before her. Hidden eyes narrowed in apoplectic fury. Her wizened body began to tremble, and two sinewy hands rose slowly towards his fat neck with clear choking intent.

That oblivious meat-slab of a face blinked at her. "Hey, Granny, you okay? You need to lie down or something? Want I should go get you a pillow?"

The ancient prophetess stared into his clueless yet well-meaning eyes. All the wrath drained out of her in the face of his simple nature, and her hands dropped listlessly with a sigh. "Well," she murmured, "I suppose we have no choice. We must make do with what we have been given."

"Sweet!" Groose beamed. "Don'tcha worry, Granny! You won't be sorry!"

* * *

The Oracle of Faron Woods meditated within the Hidden Temple. A vague unease still lingered in her heart. She had instructed the oafish Groose on the perils that faced them and the true nature of the Goddess Sword. Though she half-suspected he didn't really understand any of what she tried to explain to him, all the same their wayward Hero had gone boldly off in pursuit of the Flames to purify his weapon into its true form. They would just have to pray he was up to the task.

"G-Granny?"

Coming out of her trance, the Oracle found a red-faced Groose standing shivering before her. There were tears in his eyes and he was holding what appeared to be a bush in front of his pelvis. The reason for this was obvious: he wasn't wearing any pants.

"The Bokoblins stole my underwear!" the sniffling youth proclaimed on the verge of tears.

She digested this information in silence.

Goddess Hylia, give me strength.

* * *

The Oracle was busily grinding some herbs in a pestle, when a shuffling came behind her.

"Granny?"

A cold feeling of certainty came with that one word. Peering over her shoulder, she found a miserable-looking Groose half-hiding behind the tumbled pillars of her sanctuary. It was obvious by his posture that he was again missing his trousers.

"It happened again."

Please tell me this is a joke, she silently implored the heavens before heading off to scrounge up another piece of legwear.

* * *

The Oracle of Faron Woods sat in a pool of sunshine with birds chirping all around her, when…

"Granny…?"

She blew out her breath with a sigh, knowing what she would see when she turned around. The sight of a weeping Groose sans pants actually stirred her heart to pity.

"Come on, dear," she spoke kindly as she took his hand. "Let's get you covered up, yes?"

With tears streaming down his lumpy face he managed, "Okay," before stumbling along behind her. After a few seconds of sniffling he took a deep breath and affirmed, "Granny, I don't want you to worry! From now on I'm not going to let anything stop me! You'll see! I'll be a hero they sing about for ages!"

"Of course, dear," she consoled him, unwilling to harm this poor boy's ego any more than it had already been. "Would you like some cocoa before you go?"

He wiped his leaking nose on his sleeve. "Yes, please…"

* * *

The Bokoblin raiding party marched off in high spirits, leaving Groose leaping awkwardly in an attempt to reach his pants dangling from a tree limb. After a particularly valiant but unsuccessful leap he landed flat on his butt.

Breathing harshly in and out, filled with shame and outrage, he flung himself to the turf, only to almost immediately rise to his knees and, lifting clenched fists to the sun, screamed out in a mighty voice, "GODDESS ABOVE, I IMPLORE YOU, GIVE ME THE STRENGTH TO BE A HERO!"

DAN-DAN-NA-NAAAAAH! DA-DAH!

In an instant the beautiful blue sky was blotted with dark foreboding clouds. Thunder rumbled and a bolt of jagged lightning went streaking earthward to strike the ground directly before Groose. Smoke and scorched soil hissed before him, and the aspiring hero stared in shock.

The cloud of smoke parted to reveal a huge man of imposing figure. Muscles bulged over every inch of his sculpted frame. A red loincloth wrapped around his hips and chains wound all over his forearms. The skin of this unearthly menace was ghostly white with a broad red band like blood tattooed across his bare chest and another swirling down one arm. A similar crimson slash cut across the left side of his bald head and a short beard on his chin. Cold black eyes glared from under a shelf of brow, a terrible scar on the right side traveling from forehead to cheek. Another puckered scar stretched across sculpted abs. Over both shoulders rose a pair of enormous sword hilts. With him came the scent of fresh blood. Flames roared at his back, showing images of fierce combat between mighty warriors accompanied by the faint screams of the dying, along with the clash of sword on spear.

This terrifying titan looked down at the shocked Skypiean and bellowed, "WHO SEEKS THE AID OF KRATOS, THE GOD OF WAR?"

Glancing about, Groose slowly raised an uncertain hand. "Well, uh… I think I did, sir, but… I was kind of expecting our own goddess, Hylia."

The Ghost of Sparta lifted his head with a sneer. "YOUR GODDESS… IS _DEAD!_ I HAVE _SLAIN HER!"_

DAN-DAN-NA-NAAAAAH! DA-DAH!

Groose's eyes grew wide. "R… _really?!"_

"Perhaps." Kratos glanced around in bored fashion and gave an idle flick of his hand. The background paraphernalia of godhood dispersed at his gesture, and once more the sun shone bright. "I have slain many deities; eventually they all start to blur together. After slaughtering the gods of my own pantheon, I have traveled the various dimensions in search of worthy adversaries. But your impassioned plea called to me, AND SO I HAVE ANSWERED!"

This tremendous roar caused Groose to cringe. "You don't have to shout," he informed the foreign deity. "I mean, I'm right here, there's no–"

"DO YOU WISH TO BE A GREAT WARRIOR?!"

Past the ringing in his ears, he considered this. The answer seemed obvious, though he hesitated to speak it aloud. "Yes, sir, I do."

Kratos planted both fists on his hips and glared in a very disturbing manner. "Then I, Kratos, shall SHOW YOU HOW!"

DAN-DAN-NA-NAAAAAH! DA-DAH!

The god glanced down briefly before turning to stride away. "But first you shall require some pants."

This prospect Groose met with considerably more enthusiasm. "Yes, sir!"

* * *

There then followed a period of intense training. This involved no sparring, no meditating in wastelands, and definitely no training at 1,000 times Earth's gravity! Just no to _any of that tedious crap!_

 _Cue 'Rocky' training montage!_

 _Cue 'Eye of the Tiger' soundtrack!_

* * *

Groose stands before a single armed Bokoblin on the slopes of Eldin Volcano. At a gesture from Kratos on the sidelines, he raises his Goddess Sword, gives a mighty roar and charges forward to attack. Unfortunately, every swing and slice he makes is parried with ease by the pudgy little troll's blade, almost like the damn thing was reading his mind! I mean seriously, this isn't Psycho Mantis we're fighting here, it's just a freakin' Bokoblin! The weakest damn enemy in any Zelda game! How the hell does it always block you, for crying out loud?! God fucking _dammit! FUCK!_

Okay, now that I've gotten that off my chest, back to the story.

Moments later, a stunned Groose is flat on his back staring at the sky, weaponless and utterly humiliated. The victorious Bokoblin throws back its head and laughs at his folly.

A heavy blade on a chain whips out, and the red-skinned creature's severed head lands between Groose's legs, eyes wide with shock and mouth still open. The aspiring hero stares at it, then back at his trainer, who gives him a look of utmost disgust before securing his sickle-whip and striding off. Hurriedly Groose finds his feet and races to catch up.

* * *

A great corpulent Moblin wielding spear and shield stands astride one of the narrow walls that stretch all across Lanayru Desert. A crowd of Bokoblins teem at its back. Before this small army there stands Kratos, God of War.

After checking to make sure his disciple is watching, the Ghost of Sparta turns to regard the enemy. Towering over him, the giant Moblin blinks its piggy eyes, drool dripping from rotten yellow tusks in bestial intimidation. Kratos remains before it resolutely. Fists on his hips, he regards the pig monster with disdain, not bothering to hide a confident sneer. Upon noticing this, the dimwitted brute experiences a sense of stung pride, and immediately seeks to compensate for its insecurities by thrusting its wooden spear at the bone-white enemy.

In a flash the Spartan warrior has grasped the weapon's tip, halting it without any visible effort or injury to himself. Both Groose and the Moblin gape in bewilderment at this display of divine strength. Without waiting for them to come to terms with it, Kratos then yanks the spear from his opponent's grip and flings it into the air to go spinning upwards like a boomerang. Before anyone can react he then seizes the flabby devil's wooden shield wall, leaps straight into the air and with an ear-splitting cry, brings it smashing down to squash that blubbery form in a spray of blood and fat.

The besmirched front line of Bokoblins can only stare in shock while those behind them wonder if what little they could see really happened. During this time the spear has come down. Catching it, Kratos then levels the sharpened implement and charges forward with another martial bellow. In doing so he skewers a line of goblins all along its length, knocking the rest off the wall to fall into quicksand, where they are sucked down into an ironically watery desert grave.

That night Kratos roasts the shish-ke-Bokoblins over a fire that lights the dry dunes orange while proceeding to tell a still awestruck Groose about his past exploits.

The next day, the apprentice slays his first Bokoblin. His god approves.

* * *

Groose and the Dark Lizalfos circle one another warily. He has already slain one of these powerful opponents, but administering the final blow left him open to the Dark Breath of this other attacker. Now cursed and temporarily unable to draw his sword, the bloodstained Skypiean keeps a wary eye on the lizard man as it advances upon him with impervious metal gauntlet raised.

Seeing it twist its shoulders, Groose recognizes it is about to attack with its spiked tail club. Instinctively he leaps sideways hoping to evade. As he does a heavy weight smashes into his arm and with it there comes the crack of bone. Damn! Still got me! He skids across the chamber floor, halting only a scant distance from the edge where a pool of bubbling lava waits to scorch his flesh.

 _/Master, there is a 78.6% probability that your sword arm is now broken. Would you like to hear a Rumor that might help you in this situation?/_

"If I want to play the odds, I'll blow myself up in Thrill Digger, dammit!" Groose swears. "Which would _still_ be an improvement over listening to you yap about how likely it is that I'm taking a shit every time I drop my drawers!"

/ _At present, your colon is 56.5% full. Would you like me to search for a rest station nearby?/_

" _SHUT THE HELL UP!"_

During this argument the Dark Lizalfos has sped across the arena and whips its tail around in a bid to send him pitching into hot magma. Groose manages to roll across the floor in time to evade, hearing the whoosh of the tail-mace pass over him. He regains his feet in time to see it spin around to face him. Briefly he entertains the notion of bull-rushing the beast and sending it back into the lava itself, but soon rejects that strategy. Considering how agile these reptiles are, he would probably end up taking a flaming bath himself.

The curse has finally dissipated. Still, his arm remains broken. A Healing Potion might do the trick, but Kratos specifically forbade him from using such 'womanish Athenian methods' while in this dungeon. Even now he can feel the War God's disapproval as he watches the battle through omniscient senses. _"You dare cower before this overgrown iguana?!"_ a harsh voice demands in his thoughts. _"Slay the beast or face my wrath, coward!"_

"I'm not a coward!" Groose's teeth grind audibly together. Reaching back with his left hand, he awkwardly pulls the Goddess Sword free of its sheathe and holds the gleaming blade out in a clumsy manner. Sweat drips down his face, mixing with the blood from several cuts. His rage at this demeaning situation is fast starting to boil. With a cry he springs forward and does his best to cleave the villain's head from its shoulders.

In response the Lizalfos easily evades the blow by ducking to one side, raising its armored gauntlet overhead to defend against further attacks. It then sticks out its forked tongue and waggles its head with a gabbling noise that means mockery in any language.

/ _Master, there is a 99.8% probability that you missed. The 0.2% difference is owing to the theory that reality is subjective so that from the viewpoint of another individual…/_

"SHUT! UP!"

Groose doesn't know if he is screaming at the sword-spirit or the lizard-man. Maybe both. But it is this very blood-boiling fury that allows him to lash out with his shattered right arm despite the agony and seize hold of the Lizalfos' tongue. The beast's laughter cuts off with a choke, and for a moment it just stands there gaping at him in helpless shock.

The enraged Skypiean takes this opportunity to ram his sword right down the Dark Lizalfos' gullet 'til only an inch of steel is visible protruding from its mouth. He proceeds to lift the whole thing right off the floor so that it hangs suspended before him, legs kicking spastically and blood running from its nose. The slit-pupil eyes of the lizard warrior meet Groose's golden ones, and what it sees there fills the dying monster with 100% terror.

With a snarl, Groose then thrusts his blade and its passenger deep into the lava.

 _/Oh my Goddess… /_

He leaves it in there for several seconds. The light from the molten rock reflects in his eyes, which shine with a madness never before experienced in this particular game series. Even Fi has nothing to say at this situation, too stunned at such brutality to even calculate the odds of her corporeal self melting from these high temperatures (about 1.6%, if you're curious).

When he finally pulls his blade from the bubbling pit, the remains of the Lizalfos now resemble a large roasted newt on a stick. Groose examines his defeated foe hungrily before yanking off its blackened tail and proceeding to take a bite. It blisters his fingers and fills his mouth with the taste of hot scalding _victory!_

* * *

Observing this scene from his heavenly throne room, Kratos crossed his arms with a satisfied smile. At last, the training had borne fruit.

* * *

The Sheikah warrior Impa sprawled upon the floor of the Sealed Grounds temple in despair. She had been informed of the Demon King's destruction in the future by her otherworldly senses, and her elation at this seemingly final victory had cost her dearly. Caught off guard by the appearance of Demon Lord Ghirahim through the Time Gate, she fell swiftly before his overwhelming magic and was forced to watch helplessly as he dragged the maiden Zelda to the base of the Sealed Grounds where his imprisoned master the Demon King still existed in this time period.

Filled with shame at failing in her duty, the valiant guardian struggled to rise but could hardly lift a finger. Her strength had left her, yet still she fought on. If the ceremony was not stopped, Zelda's divine soul would be sacrificed, and Demon King Demise would be unleashed in the past, where he would find no further opposition between himself and the omnipotent Triforce which would grant his foul desires.

Cursing her failure, the slender brown-skinned ninja was still attempting to crawl outside regardless of any pain when a flash of light came from where the Time Gate stood. Turning her head with laborious effort, she saw…

"Goddess above!" Impa breathed.

"Hey, there, Young Granny," a deep voice growled. "You're hot. Let's hook up after this. First thing's first, though. Where's Zelda?"

Too amazed to think clearly, she managed to point a trembling finger towards the temple entrance.

"Alright. Wait here. I'll take care of Goblin King Agahnim!"

"Demon Lord Ghirahim," she corrected.

"Whatever."

He then went stalking past her, an unholy smile stretching his lips.

* * *

Goblin King Jareth _(let's face it, he's the obvious inspiration for this character… fine, fine, continuity reestablished),_ I mean, Demon Lord Ghirahim stood with outstretched arms as he intoned an incantation. Before him floated the reincarnated goddess Hylia, now nothing more than a weak helpless maiden. While he had been unable to achieve his master's release in present times, by traveling into the past he still hoped to fulfill his mission and raise the Demon King from his confinement. It wouldn't be long now before…

A strange feeling of cold settled over the magic-user.

Opening his eyes, he looked up at the rim of the pit far above. There he spied a small green figure gazing down upon them. Ah, the so-called Hero makes his appearance! Well, suitable entertainment must be provided. With that, he diverted his attention briefly to cast a warding charm that would prevent any attempt to jump straight down here. Ghirahim then summoned up a limitless horde of vicious underworld minions all around the chasm's circular path.

"I don't care if you all wind up spitted on his blade!" he spat. "Do not fear him! Fear ME should you f–"

His admittedly impressive speech was cut off by a series of explosions traveling at lightning speed down the side of the pit. Fire and smoke was everywhere, along with the screams of Bokoblins by the hundreds. Even Ghirahim paused in his recitation, momentarily shocked by this awesome display of power. What in the world…?

At the base of the path, black smoke continued to churn, hindering his vision. As he peered forward there came running from the haze a truly mind-boggling sight. The Demon Lord stared. It looked for all the world like somebody had cut off a Bokoblin's head, then shoved a living Bokoblin's head completely up that one's ass and… well, this ghastly sight went running past him waving its arms and emitting muffled screams while its decapitated top half flopped and swayed from side to side. Despite being an animated weapon, Ghirahim felt his gorge rise. What sort of monster could _do_ such a thing?

As if in answer to his question, the smoke finally cleared.

Standing on the chasm's floor was a demon the likes of which Ghirahim had never seen. It was bare-chested with only a yellow loincloth around its waist, muscles bulging beneath skin that was painted in a bluish-green woad. Bright red hair was combed up in a spike so sharp it looked practically lethal. In fact, it might actually be dyed with blood! In one hand this apparition gripped a gore-stained Master Sword, and the other was covered in a clawed Digging Mitt besmeared with Bokoblin brains. In its jaws it clenched a spinal column still topped by the dangling Blue Bokoblin head to which it belonged. Golden eyes stared at Ghirahim out of a face that was twisted with sheer savagery. Bloodlust danced in their depths.

" _ **WHO WANTS TO DIE?!"**_ the monster snarled.

 _Oh my,_ Ghirahim thought. He mastered this completely unworthy sensation and strove to present the dignity worthy of a Demon King's weapon. "Well, I see we have, er… company." Behind him, the conjoined Bokoblin pair had run straight into a wall and passed out. This was rather distracting given the current situation. Speaking of which… maybe we should just skip the proselytizing. With that Ghirahim transformed into a closer representation of his true form, black skin boasting a polished metallic gleam and white eyes blazing with power. A smaller version of himself appeared in sword form in one hand. The spell continued to work behind him. In the time it took to deal with this thing, the Demon King would be freed! No matter what, Ghirahim had sworn to achieve his purpose.

Haughtily he lifted his bladed extension and leveled it at the blood-spattered horror. "Now you face a Demon… no, a _Weapon_ like no othe–!"

A terrible growl sounded, and the Demon Lord felt his spine clench.

Two minutes later, he was facedown in the dirt with his ass sticking up in the air, the hilt of his own sword protruding from between his butt cheeks.

 **"Gives a whole new meaning to 'go fuck yourself,' eh?"**

Groose stepped back and examined his fallen opponent.

" **Any more speeches, Agahnim?"**

Ghirah… _(oh, let's just call him Agahnim from now on, okay? I really got them confused all the time, and I can't be the only one)._ Anyway, Agahnim neither moved nor spoke. After a few seconds, the air around him shivered. When it cleared, there lay a huge black sword where the Demon Lord once had been. This, too, did not move. If it had ever been alive in any sense of the word, that clearly wasn't the case now.

" **Hmph. Weenie."** Groose then spat upon the ebony blade.

Behind him, there suddenly arose a terrible silence.

When the Hero turned, it was to find that Zelda had vanished. In her place there stood…

Oh, why bother going into long flowery descriptions? Let's just say this new character looked like Akuma from 'Street Fighter' could have sued him for copyright infringement and won handily, shall we? Right.

"Once again I walk the earth," Demon King Demise rumbled as he scanned the Sealed Grounds. His infernal gaze drifted briefly over Groose, noting with mild surprise that this mortal did not cringe before him as expected, before finally settling on the fallen Demon Lord… er, Sword.

Raising a hand, Demise willed his weapon back to him.

The sword stayed put.

Frowning, the King of the Underworld extended his hand more intensely. Same result.

With mingled humiliation and wrath, he then actually walked across the way, passing the unmoving red-haired warrior and resorted to picking up his hell-blade manually, which really was beneath the dignity of demon royalty, but soon nobody alive would be left to tell of it, so that's okay.

Returning to the spot where he first appeared, Demise then conjured a portal into another dimension. He looked back at the uncharacteristically defiant human. "Your bravery is noteworthy, mortal hero. Should you wish to challenge me, I will await you within. It has been long ere I could exert my power, and though the goddess Hylia is no more, battle with you may still prove diverting. But do not make me wait long."

Demise then passed into a plane where both earth and sky resembled a dark roiling thunderstorm. He moved off a ways and planted the point of his sword downwards, clasping both hands on the crossguard. His eyes closed, and he prepared to wait.

There came movement behind him. When he turned, the human hero stood with blade bared and golden eyes narrowed. Demise smiled faintly.

"Good. Now we can…"

Three minutes later, a bolt of lightning arced from the sky and struck the hilt of the Master Sword, which was buried all the way in the Demon King's upthrust ass. Coruscating electricity made the metal blaze with the heavenly grandeur of the sun, and when the light faded, smoke rose from the fallen deity's anus.

"I'm done."

Face buried in the clouds, the mighty Demise spoke without lifting his head.

"Seriously, I'm just… done. I don't even have it in me to curse your bloodline with my dying breath. Stick a fork in me, cuz I'm… done."

So saying, his body dissolved into a nebulous shadow which was then sucked into the Master Sword.

After observing this, Groose gave a satisfied grunt. He proceeded to retrieve his weapon and left that plane of existence behind him. Fi didn't say a word. She had learned her lesson by this point.

* * *

Upon returning to the Sealed Grounds of ancient times, Groose found Zelda waiting for him, alive and well. "Oh, Groose!" she exclaimed. "Is that really you? What happened? The last thing I remember was…"

" **Hold on a second, okay, Zelda? Thanks."** At this the victorious warrior then raised his hands and before him there suddenly glowed the almighty Triforce, capable of granting the wishes of whomever held it. Gazing into its golden power, the Hero concentrated and…

 _POP!_

… there stood Link, looking all around him in utter incomprehension.

Groose smiled, and for the first time he looked like the person they both remembered growing up with.

"Hey, man." He reached forward and gave the shaken Link a friendly pat on the shoulder. "It's great to see you again. Hey, listen…" His voice took on a sheepish quality, and he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "Sorry about getting you killed and all. It really was an accident. To make up for it I took care of those demons and saved Zelda so you don't have to. Anyway, here."

Groose then handed the Triforce over to Link, who took it without question, only to gaze up at his former tormentor in total astonishment when he realized what it was he held.

"This is yours now," the big redhead affirmed. "I figure I'm gonna stick around here in the past, you know? Try to make things better for when the Skypieans come down in our time. Plus," and here he grinned, hunkering down and chuckling just like the enthusiastic galoot he remained on the inside, "I saw how Granny looks when she's still young, and man, we're talking _hot!_ Like total mega-awesome ninja babe with tattoos and white hair and…"

The lovestruck youth heaved a sigh. He then turned a more serious look on Zelda. "What I mean is, Zelda, guess this is goodbye. You and me, I suppose it wouldn't really have worked. Call it destiny or whatever, and I think you're still a sweet kid, but… I'm just looking for a real mature woman now. And Granny, well, I really got to like her, and since this is her era originally I'm gonna stick around here and see if she might get to like me too. Maybe settle down, start our own tribe out in the desert, which I really got to like while I was there, and we could name the tribe something fitting. Like 'The Groosa' or 'The Garuso' or 'The Gerudo'. I dunno, something like that."

As he spoke, what looked like a white Sailcloth came drifting from the sky and landed right on his pointy hairdo. Groose plucked it off. "Oh, hey, perfect."

He then set about wiping the war-paint off his face and body. When he was finally done he more closely resembled the Groose of old. And yet, there was an indefinable new quality as well. Perhaps it was confidence born from overcoming adversity, or maybe the simple transition from boyhood to manhood. Whatever the case, this new figure handed the Sailcloth over to Zelda, shook hands with both of his childhood acquaintances, and then proceeded to follow them up the path to the temple where Impa awaited.

Zelda chatted excitedly at Link while they walked, who still seemed rather stunned by this whole affair. Studying them, Groose decided that he had made the right choice. Not just about the Triforce, which had been tempting enough for any man. Seeing them now, he accepted that those two belonged together. And he was a better man for realizing it. Still felt a bit of an ache in his heart as yet, but that could be due to any number of things. After all, there was no certainty that young Impa would be as kindly disposed towards him as her older self. But it wouldn't be the first time he threw himself at a woman who didn't feel quite the same way as he did. And love supposedly conquered all. Even the greatest warrior couldn't overcome it if the stories were true.

His eyes drifted heavenwards. Is that okay, boss?

In the night sky overhead, the image of Kratos appeared faintly over the glistening stars. _"Just so, my disciple,"_ the Ghost of Sparta nodded his head in respect. _"Be free, with my blessing. Though war will always beckon, in the end, I do not begrudge you the chance to make a life with the woman you love. Treat her well, and take care to never let anyone come between you, be they god or man. This is the command of KRATOS, THE GOD OF WAR! FAREWELL!"_

DAN-DAN-NA-NAAAAAH! DA-DAH!

"Did you guys hear something?" Zelda remarked.

Groose merely clasped both hands behind his head and grinned. "Nope."

* * *

"Oh, Link," Zelda sighed as they stood side-by-side on the outstretched palms of the Goddess Hylia's towering statue. "It seems like ages since we came up here to celebrate your acceptance into the Knight Academy."

Beside her, Link continued to gaze spellbound at the Golden Power in triangular form. Far below them the former Sealed Grounds had been filled by the very floating island which had originally come from it, courtesy of this goddess-forged artifact. With the changes to the past there was no way to know for sure if the Imprisoned Demise's squashed corpse still lay beneath, but that hardly mattered now. Had there ever been anything so wondrous, so beautiful?

"And now here we are again. Oh, it's all so amazing down here." The blonde maiden twirled around and breathed the air. She held up the woad-stained towel Groose had given her as a parting gift. "And to think this all started with me giving you my Sailcloth. Do you remember, Link?"

Behind her Link glanced up, a small frown on his face.

"And then I shoved you off the statue without any warning so you could learn to use it!" she sang. "Oh, but you didn't quite get the hang of it on the first time. That looked like a really nasty impact, from what I could see."

The frown was now a glare.

"And then you had to keep trying until you got it right! Plus I had to keep telling you the proper technique over and over and over and over again! Like it was some rule in a game where we couldn't do anything else until you figured it out. You must have hit the ground at least fifty times. It's amazing you survived!" Zelda looked back at him and smiled sweetly. "Do you remember?"

At this, Link gave her a similarly genial smile.

He then lifted his foot and booted her off the edge.

"AAAAAAHHHH – *SPLAT*!"

Link grinned happily.

It really was hard to figure out that Sailcloth on the first try.

Lucky for her, he had a Triforce. Which meant they could do this as many times as it took.

* * *

And just so you know, Groose and Impa did hit it off eventually. It wasn't smooth sailing, to be sure. She insisted on naming their family the Twilli, and he wouldn't back down about naming their first kid Ganondorf. But love won out in the end.

It's no Triforce, but it'll do.

 _ **FIN.**_


End file.
